


The Boy that the Ocean Adopted

by Infinatesky



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Artists, High School, I'll add more tags as the story progresses, M/M, Ocean, Teenagers, Unrequited Love, but only for like a few days
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-13 19:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinatesky/pseuds/Infinatesky
Summary: Artist/Highschool AU!! Phil has cut the most important parts of himself off in order to fit in, and Dan may be the only person who can show him that it's ok to be a little different.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first Phanfic in way too long! This is just a little prologue, but it gives some good background into Phil and why he will act the way he does here. I wanted to give people a chance to read it and see what they thought before I posted the whole thing.

From the smudgy window in his bedroom, Phil had a perfect view of the waves crashing against a small island a little way off of the shore. He had taken a few hours one lazy summer afternoon to push his rickety bed against the wall and position it just so that he could look out of the window when his head was resting on the pillow. As a pastime he would lie in bed, just watching the waves hit the island. Just watching them, daring the water to drown the island once and for all. It was a little nothing island, just a couple of rocks, really, but it never gave up. Phil's little island kept on fighting to stand even though every day it didn't feel anything except for the waves that always worked against it. There was some sort of metaphor there, Phil was sure there was.

He kept his room clean, and had decorated it with simple, white furniture that didn't draw your attention; The obvious center piece was the grand window and its magnificent view. He never needed anything else. 

When his life got messy and his mind began swirling with uncomfortable thought, Phil would hide himself under the comfort of his blankets and watch the water for hours. He found comfort it the repetitive and familiar motions. Sometimes, in the constant battle between the ocean and the waves, he found himself rooting for the water: "come on, just drown it already. It's an eyesore anyways," but most often he cheered silently for the island, and the way that it persevered. He found comfort in that, too. 

Phil never tired of watching the ocean, but eventually he began to look for other ways that he could treasure and enjoy his island. It was untouchable - surrounded by harsh water and dangerous to get near - so Phil kept his distance and found other ways to feel closer to it. He took up drawing and photography, but his pencils couldn't capture the fluidity of the ocean and it was hard to take pictures through smudged glass. 

He progressed onto painting, and discovered a love for acrylic paint and the way he could manipulate it. He created so many paintings of his ocean view that he burned the image of it into in his memory. It got to the point where he didn't even have to look at it to be able to remember the way the water would swirl and kick up over the rocks, or the way the grey island would turn golden in the afternoon sun. 

After becoming so used to painting one thing over and over, Phil wondered if he would ever be able to paint anything else. It was scary, like a leap of faith, the first time that he picked up a paintbrush withough intending to paint his ocean scene. But how could he ever really be anything if he never let himself move on? He had to tear himself away from his security blanket, and find inspiration elsewhere. 

Somehow, he dived too deep into a newness and lost himself along the way. What had once been the most important thing in his life became nothing but a distant memory. When Phil packed up and moved out of his Parent's house by the ocean, he didn't bring a single one of his painting with him. He didn't even take a picture of the view on his phone, or spare himself one last look. Phil, too desperate to become his own person and find his way in the world, cut away the most concrete part of himself that he had ever known. 

The Phil that unpacked his frayed suitcase in the dorm of his new art school was not the same Phil that had spent hours painting and wondering and feeling. The new Phil owed his acceptance from the art school completely to the old Phil, who unfortunately wasn't even there to experience it. The old Phil was still back in his old room with all of his paintings and his actual possessions and everything that had ever really represented him. But new Phil, he would get through grade 12 at a new school flawlessly, without giving anybody any reason to make fun of him or see him as something that stood out from the crowd. And so new Phil would stay.


	2. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny boi appears (I promise)

When Phil awake to golden morning light streaming through his blinds, his first thought was to listen for the ocean and the sounds of its waves against the rocks. He waited a few seconds before his mind caught up with his reality and he remembered where he was. Phil wondered, as he pushed himself up to sitting, how many old habits he would have to change now that he was living in the dorms. 

There were new sounds here that he assumed he would start listening for instead, like the sounds from his new roommate. Before leaving his small, uninspiring bedroom, Phil paused for a second to try and listen for any hint of what his roommate might be doing. When he couldn't hear anything, Phil assumed he was either still asleep or had already left. He pushed his door open timidly and tiptoed his way through their shared half-kitchen half-living room, and towards the bathroom. 

Thankful that he had chosen to pay a little more for a dorm that included a bathroom, (as opposed to just using the bigger, shared ones available to everyone on each floor,) Phil closed himself into the little room and switched the light on. He walked towards the silver-framed square mirror hanging over the sink. 

Just as he did everytime he got the chance to look at his reflection for more than a second, Phil began to focus in on all of the things he wished he could change about himself. He closed and rubbed his eyes, and splashed cold water onto his face - anything to make himself look more awake, as opposed to the fragile, lifeless face that seemed more like a mask than his own in the mirror. It didn't work; it never did. 

He got dresses into the clothes that he had previously grabbed from his suitcase, gave himself one last look in the mirror to quickly fix his hair with his fingers, and then as discreetly as he could Phil left his dorm room. He was yet to meet his roommate, and to be honest the thought of sharing his space with one other person wasn't necessarily a happy one - something about being not very skilled with one on one human interaction, and all that. He found himself hoping his roommate would be someone he could easily get along with, but he tried his best to push the thought from his mind before it managed to plant enough roots to make him feel unhappy when in undoubtedly didn't come true. 

-

Classes wouldn't start for about an hour still, which gave Phil the opportunity to acclimatize himself with his new school. He could have also went for breakfast at the cafeteria, since it was free for students living on res, but he felt more jittery than hungry. First day nerves were the lingering result of too many 'worst first days' all piled up on top of each other. Phil rolled his shoulders back and told himself that today would be different.

It felt different already, anyways. It was easy to find quick differences between today and all of his other first days, like the location, obviously, and the student, but Phil found the subtle differences to be the most reassuring. It was the gentle padding of his feet in the tile floors, the hushed voices echoing through the tall hallways, and the fresh air through the garden courtyards that made him feel the most at home. 

He decided, with half an hour left of idle time, to sit in one of the courtyards and people watch, to see if he could start to understand the type of kids that he would share his classes with. Not long after he had found himself a spot on a little wooden bench under a tall, leafy mess of light green, he was joined in the serenity by a girl who's rushed movements quickly popped his peaceful bubble. She sat down so hectically it looked more like she had fallen onto the bench, although if she had it hadn't phased her in the slightest. She pulled her bright backpack onto her lap and began to dig through it so feverishly Phil wondered if she had misplaced something important. She was quite preoccupied, and surely hadn’t noticed Phil sitting across from her on the other side of the cement walkway, so Phil felt that it was his responsibility to make his existence known.

He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't much think of anything to say to the stranger across from him. What would a functional human being do in this situation? Phil, who knew himself well enough to say that situations like this were not his strong suit, provided himself with perhaps the worst of any options, or if not the worst then at least the one most likely to lead to loneliness. He stood up silently and turned to quickly walk away, hoping the girl wouldn't look up at his sudden movement. 

When Phil got back inside the school he began mental kicking himself for his plan, but ultimately knew he shouldn't have expected anything different from himself. While avoiding conversations was the most comfortable thing for him to do, he kept telling himself that it really wouldn't get him anywhere with friends. Phil had done school alone - he had ridden the no friends train for as long as it could successfully take him. At this school, he would try harder. At this school, Phil would make friends and he would keep friends and he wouldn't spend any more of his life functioning as a one man parade. That was what Phil told himself, at least, until he arrived at his first class and found that it was a lecture hall about as big as his old school's gym. He hadn't even been able to make friends in a classroom of 30 people - how on earth was he going to find a friend in a sea of hundreds of unfamiliar faces? Phil found himself a seat towards the back, surrounded by empty chairs. Perhaps it had been unrealistic for him to expect anything to change. He sighed as he reached into his bag to pull out a pencil and paper, preparing himself for a whole new year of 'getting through it' by himself.

-

 

It wasn't until about 5 minutes into the lecture, while Phil was in the middle of one of his sadder thought spirals, that a girl with a bouncing bob of brown hair slid into the seat next to him. Phil looked up sharply, having been startled out of his inner monologue. The girl leaned sideways towards him, tipping her head up beside his. 

"Hello there. I'm Cat." She said, then after a pause, "and you are?"

"Phil. I am." Phil could barely hold in a moan of distress that that was the first thing he'd said to anybody today.

"Alright, Phil." Cat said with more than a hint of amusement. She gave Phil a friendly smile, but stayed quiet for the rest of the lesson after their brief conversation. She opted instead to opening a thick notebook and take notes with big, swooping handwriting. 

Cat's arrival gave a whole new spark to Phil's day, and he could feel his relief in his newly relaxed shoulders and the quietness of his mind. He stayed focused throughout the entire 2 hour lecture, and by the end had a handful of notes that he felt he could be proud of.

It was just as the lesson came to a close that Cat turned back to Phil.

"You looked so lonely over here when I came in. Are you new?" 

"Yeah I, I just transferred from out of town. I went to a public school before this." 

"Welcome to Bristone then! What do you think of it so far?" Cat started walking as she asked her question, and Phil took that as his cue to follow her. 

"I’ve only really experienced it for a few hours so far, but it seems great. I'm excited for the actually making art parts of it though, more than the lectures."

"Yeah for sure. I'm majoring in photography, how about you?" Cat motioned to her shoulder bag as she said this. It was large and bulky, and Phil assumed that it must be carrying a camera.

"I'm just in the general program, but I hope to major in painting. I think I have a portrait painting class next actually." Phil said the second half as he dug his schedule out of his pocket, unfolding it carefully. Cat reached to take it from his hands when she saw that he was trying to make sense of the colorful, blocked out schedule by holding it upside down.

"Yep, Mr. Roy, room 512. He's a good teacher. I'll walk you to your class, we're pretty close to it already." 

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Cat used a black sharpie to write her phone number on Phil's wrist as a goodbye, telling him to call her at the beginning of lunch to meet up. She justified her gesture by saying that it was such a big school that if they didn't have a way to talk to each other they might just never see each other again. Phil didn't really believe her, but he didn't mind. He was mostly just in awe that he had managed to make a friend. 

As Cat turned to leave, Phil turned the other way, looking towards the door that she had brought him to. It wasn't really the door itself that intimidated Phil, but as it functioned rather well as a symbol for everything that could happen after he walked through it, he let himself take a second to regroup before moving to pull it open.

Phil's hand had been reaching out to take the handle when, to Phil's misfortune, the handle began to move towards him. The door itself quickly followed the handel, and proceeded to smack Phil and shove him backwards. Phil had barely gotten a chance to register that he was falling before a hand shot out from the other side of the opening door to catch him. 

"Oh I'm so sorry! Are you ok?" The voice attached to the hand asked Phil. It took Phil a second to regain his balance before he could focus his eyes on the person in front of him. As soon as he had, though, he wished he hadn't. He had spent his whole life fighting off little pieces of a feeling, and when he looked into the kind eyes of the boy in front of him, Phil was hit by that feeling in full force. It hurt much more than the door had. It hurt and it made him feel sick and he could feel his cheeks heating up, but some part of him never wanted the feeling to go away. 

"Uh, yeah I'm ok", Phil muttered after realizing that he had been quiet for too long. He awkwardly pulled his hand from where it still rested in the other boy's, then stepped to the side. "Were you leaving?" 

"Oh, no. I was sent out to look for my painting partner. He's new here, and I - " The boy seemed to notice about half way through his explanation that he had no idea who he was talking to. "Hey, actually, are you Phil?"

"Yep." A better answer than last time he had had to introduce himself, at least. 

"Well it looks like I found who I was looking for, then. Come with me, partner! I'm Dan, by the way." He added his name as an afterthought. 

Still blushing, Phil followed Dan through the doorway and into the classroom, although he didn't think it could truly be called a classroom. From its tall, skylight-filled ceilings to its lack of desks and abundance of art supplies, Phil was sure that the word ‘studio’ fit it better. 

As he followed Dan towards two empty easels, Phil realized that a sudden calmness had come over him. He didn’t want to admit it, but somehow, the sweet boy in front of him had rid anxious Phil of his new-school-nerves without even trying.

Staying true to all that he had imagined for New Phil might turn out to be harder than he had anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how I can improve or if you have any suggestions! I am writing this because I love D&P, but also to improve my writing skills ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think and give me any suggestion on what you would like to see happen!
> 
>  
> 
> I crave validation 🙃


End file.
